


our lives are made in these small hours

by saekhwa



Series: these small hours still remain [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Mick, Domestic, M/M, Post-Chronos, Post-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:12:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7072519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/saekhwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Ray has someone waiting for him at home. It's surprisingly nice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	our lives are made in these small hours

**Author's Note:**

> Moriavis is the bestest. Lots of hearts around her for her encouragement and beta.

Ray has a definite bounce to his step as he walks through the door, whistling. He nudges the door shut with his foot but pauses to twist the deadbolt and then reactivate the security alarm. He thinks through all the modifications he intends to make to his suit as he heads toward the kitchen, where he nearly drops his keys when he realizes he's not alone. 

Fortunately, the ring is hooked on his finger, and it's just Mick at the table. Ray can almost hear Oliver in his head, judging his life choices, but Oliver doesn't get a say, not even in Ray's vivid imagination. 

What really stops Ray dead in his tracks, though, is the lighter that Mick's holding, the flame at eye level, wavering from the ceiling fan. Ray swallows, because he remembers who Mick used to be and remembers the teenager they left with Rip's mom. He gently sets his keys in the small bowl on the kitchen counter and then inches forward, barely making a sound until he's about arm's length from Mick. 

"Hey, Mick," he says, and smiles when Mick lifts his head and looks at him. 

"Don't worry, Haircut." A twitch of Mick's wrist. That's all it takes for the lighter to snap closed before it vanishes into Mick's jacket pocket. "That's not me. Not anymore."

Ray lowers his eyes. He always wants to say something, but he's never sure what he _can_ say. Mick's changed for the better, but part of that change is because they'd left him behind. Worse, they left him with Snart, believing Snart intended to kill him. Ray holds himself and every member of the crew culpable for what amounts to Mick's torture at the hands of the Time Masters. 

The legs of the chair sound terrible on the hardwood, and Ray thinks about adding a rug when he looks up. Mick's glowering stare shouldn't make him smile, but it does. It's sort of Mick's resting face. 

"You're thinking again," Mick says. "Stop."

Ray shakes his head. "Never going to happen."

They stand in front of each other in silence, and then Ray takes a chance. He curls a hand around Mick's arm, leaning in, slowly enough to see Mick's shoulders rise, to feel Mick's body tense. 

"I just want to kiss you," Ray says. "Is that okay? Or I could—" He looks around and then settles on the stove. "I could make us lunch. Burgers sound good, right? I think I have some beef in the fridge. Or maybe the freezer. I—"

"Haircut." It gets Ray's attention. "Shut up." 

"That's never going to happen either," Ray says with a grin. 

He searches Mick's face, willing to take his lead on this, and it takes a few seconds, what feels like an eternity really, because Ray's not always sure how to navigate this new them that's developed. Mick leans in a little, just enough, that Ray exhales, smile softening. 

He doesn't push his luck as he closes the distance between them, sliding his hand up to Mick's shoulder. Ray kisses the corner of Mick's mouth, Mick's skin rough against his lips—from the scars and from the stubble. 

When Ray draws away, Mick returns to the chair but not to the lighter, and Ray heads toward the fridge to figure out what, exactly, he has in it. He's been working so hard on improvements to the suit that it is woefully barren. 

"Okay, so let's just order out," Ray says, turning away from the fridge. "Maybe pizza. What are you in the mood for?"

"Food." 

Ray laughs, nodding as he looks up a couple of pizza places on his phone. "Pizza it is."


End file.
